7.8.11. 7:24 PM. Day 7. A Day Behind.

I am back to being behind in my writing, so i will do my best to catch up. After the pooja on the top of the lonely hill, Mary and I went for lunch. It seemed that over the past week we had been acquiring the concept of "Indian Standard Time" as we had begun to be less punctual for meals than during the first few days. After lunch we went back upstairs to our room where I decided to take a break and rest under the amazing fan for a while. Mary felt invigorated and wanted to go out and explore. So she went out for about 2.5 hours but was back in time for evening meditation. I relaxed for maybe half an hour, listened to my ipod (some of the "tunage" Sylvanna burned for me) and i too felt inspired to go off on my own.

Rishikesh very much has a small town feeling to it, it is very safe and after awhile you begin to know your way very comfortably. I 'm not sure if I made these two points known as of yet: from the moment I got here, as in India, even the Indians thought I was Indian, and second - Mary is white. So with this bit of background you can now imagine that we got quite a few looks while walking about, more so Mary than me. People would always ask to take her picture or to take one with her. They never asked this of me. Well, one did. And so I am quite glad that no more have tried. The looks I got were far more confused in nature. Why is she walking with the white girl? Why is she dressed like that? Stuff like that.

This walk would be unique in that it would be the first time I walked along alone...without my white girl. It was when i realized this  that i put on my Anthropologist hat and went to work. It was a surreal experience. It was as if the spotlight was suddenly turned off from me. I was able to walk about freely. Nobody approached me trying to sell me trinkets, or ask me for a photo: they just passed by occasionally staring. But then the strangest thing happened, I stared back. And it was okay. It seems like staring is very much  an accepted practice in India, whereas it is impolite/rude to stare in the States. I ended up just hanging out, leaning on the low wall by the big bridge - just people watching. I got stares, but these, i think  i can assume, had to do with a)what is she wearing? b) why is she alone? c) why is she just standing here? I, frankly, wasn't alone - a very friendly cow followed me  and kept me company for a long time while i watched the passersby.

 Eventually, I got hot and some monkeys started fighting so I t hought it a good time to make my way back home, I arrived back happy and full of excitement. I was thuroughly in love with India again. About 20 minutes later, Mary walks in fairly overwhelmed. She told me what happened when I asked, because she had left in such a positive mood and now she was hating India and saying, "So many fucking temples!" over and over again. I'd alreadyt had my low day when i was sick so I could tell that's where she was. The honeymoon was over for her. I was a very good thing that we each had our low points on different days because neither of us would have made it without the others' encouragement and patience. It seems like she walked very far to this amazing 17 story temple by the little foot bridge about 3 miles down the road. She said the temple experience was fine (and she broiught me back a few gifts too) but it was on the way back that the shear amount of beggars finally got to her. She was overheated, overwhelmed, and she wanted a coke. So we went to go get her one. She vented while we walked and when we got there she grabbed a coke and i got a pepsi. I  offered to pay - for two reasons, first, she  was having a bad day and when i was sick she bought me a soda which got me through the day. IT was at that moment what i realized that i had never boguht anything in India before. This  was what appeared to be a conveniene store, so i approached the counter and put up the bottles. The guy didn't do anything and neither did i for a bit. I don't know what exactly I expected him to do, i guess i half expected him to take out a price scanner or at least touch the bottles. I dont know why. It all seems a bit silly and out of place now. But eventually I pushed the drinks closer to him and eventually he told me "40 rupees"...i had dontated my 50 and 100 rps bills to the creepy hilltop temple so the only one left in my pocket was a 500 rp.  bill. I felt kind of like that guy who buys a pack of gum with a $20. Slightly embarassed, i took my wads of change and we went  out the door. Mary's mood was improving quickly and after meditation she was pretty much back to normal.

At 6PM we got to learn about retail therapy - we got real hands-on experience with these patients. They were us. Dr. Muthu brought us to his favorite jewelery store where the gems were actually real and were from the Himalayas. we took our shoes off before we entered the store and then found ourselves in a open room shop with a glass case on one side and chairs on the other. The walls of all sides were lined with shelves of statues, decorative plates, jewelry sets etc. In the glass case there were rows and rows of shiny things that upon closer inspection turned out to be giant pendants, earrings, necklaces, and rings. The shop owner and Dr. Muthu spoke for awhile while we just looked around with wide eyes and gaping mouths. Then the shop keeper said "come" and opened up the back door. This one room shop became two and as we walked through the second he opened up a third door. The second room was full of artifacts, all kinds of statues of the different deities, Tibetan singing bowls, gongs, hanging canvases, etc. In the third room there was another glass case. this one filed with the really expensive good stuff: gold with 9 different kinds of gems, gem mala beads, bracelets, broaches, earrings, etc.  So much. Very shiny.

Mary went a bit crazy and started running from place to place after awhile. The owner followed her around eagerly, explaining the value of stuff. I took the slower, quieter road of just perousing around seeing what really drew me in. I had my mom in mind, in particular, for this store so i hoovered over the gold, dangly earrings, since that's what she wanted. I sound some very pretty ones with emeralds in them, i asked how much - and the owner said 400. I asked, "rupees?" and he said "No." I went to the front room and basically stayed there. the silver was there so that's where i wanted to me anyway. The owner was busy with crazy-shopper Mary so i got the quieter, less pushy assistant. I liked him better so it worked out great. I found earrings for mom and some for myself, then i went to the second room and looked at the statues. my new love affair with Lord Hanuman continued because i found statues of him quickly. I accepted my fate and took him home with me. I asked what Hanuman was known for and the guy said, "he's the god of devotion." It was serendipitous.

By this time it was getting late and it was already time for us to go to dinner. We didn't have that much money on hand so the guy said we could come back the next day - he would hold our stuff.

for those who want to call...

i think the country code is 91, and then my number is 7895168010. remember that i am half a world away, so if you call at 3pm it is 3am my time.  10 oclock is usually best for me, 9 works also. both of these at either point of the day works great. if you call me its free for me. I don't know how much it is for you. probably alot. bwahahahaha. but yes :)

7.7.11. 6:33AM. Day 6. Cliche.

So it's not raining this morning, but it is really cool - almost cold. Amazing. It's still very cloudy so there is always hope.

 Hopefully it doesn't rain when Dr. Muthu is going to show us where the one internet cafe is around here. We actually stumbled upon it the day before I got sick, but it said "internet phone calls" so i wanted clarification before we went in. He said he would take us both shopping, and to the internet cafe and talk to the proprieters to give us good deals. He's cool like that. Hooking us up.

Even this early there seems to be more busyness about than usual. The smell of incense at first wafted in through the door, but is now a permanent fixture. Yesterday, flags all but magically appeared along the street walls. They replaced the wheeled gate in front of the Ashram with a sturdier whelded gate. We could tell something big was going to happen...We asked  the French lady from our yoga class if she knew what the flads were for and I only caught the second half of what she said, but it went something like this (with a French accent), "They are for the ones who are coming. They come from the mountains at night - thousands of them, and they all come into the city wearing this color (touching the orange on the flag). Their whole families come, but their women stay in the mountains. they can get so loud, I was here last year at this time, and they frightened me with their wild screams Do not go out at night. it would be too dangerous!"

And sure enough when we were coming back from our pre-dinner walk we noticed a lot more men with the orange cloth doing the ceremony. I guess they'd been trickling in over the past few days, but now they are coming in greater numbers. We even saw a van with a "PRESS" sticker on the windshield not long after our straight from the movies ominous warning.

We are not sure what is coming but we are both curious and pleasantly scared. We don't feel too threatened because we usually call it a night after dinner at 7:30. I've decided to ask Dr. Muthu about it today after the lecture. I'm sure he'll be able to give us a clearer answer.

2:04PM. More Monkey Business.

So today Dr. Muthu talked about massage thereapy. He listed a few, but he mainly focused on Sweedish since that's what they specialize in at this center. He further broke it down to full body, general, and parical. Then he described the different hand movements of massage, and there were  quite a few. After our lecture we asked him about the flags. He had apparently not noticed them because he gave us an unclear look. Then we summed up what Frenchie told us yesterday and once he realized what we were talking about, he waved it off saying that the flags were in preparation for some political leaders who were going to come to the city in a few days (8th and 9th to be exact). He said that it had nothing to do with wild, forest men. Though not nearly as amusing, I found this story both more credible and believeable. So there is that.

But before this were were having breakfast in our room, and after we had finished we were just lounging around. Mary was writing in her journal and i was absent mindedly looking through the camera photos, when out of nowhere a mother monkey, with her baby hanging upside down, slowly walks into view from the little anti-room our our room. i notice them first and just kind of stare. No noise. Just an unregistering look. The mother still creeps uneasily closer and still I sit there, with camera still in hand, on playback mode, and finally Mary notices. She reacts, "Oh my GOD!" gets up and begins to try to shoo the monkeys back outside. The moter monkey turns around and begins to walk back out the door unphased by the shooing. it was pretty much at that point when it finally dawned on me that a monkey had just walked into our room...walked right in...calmly, quietly....walked...right...in. And I had the camera turned on, in my hands and I DIDN'T TAKE A PICTURE!!! Epic fail on my part. I was practically all but given a freaking monkey and I just sat there and stared at it. Ugh, and they were so cute too..

2:33PM. Pooja

So after our lecture, Mary and I had previously decided that we were going to go up to the temple in the top of the hill. She had already been there a few days ago, the day i was sick i believe, and she said that the views were amazing. And that  they had her do a ritual where you bow to stuff, you ring bells, they give you some little white things to eat, you're supposed to drink the water, and then they put a little red dot on your forehead. And i said, "oh, that sounds like a pooja - I want to go." She also told me about  the kinda creepy priest man who doesn't seem to know the American standard of appropriate touching because he made her very uncomfortable. but she brushed it off and was totally willing to go back with me again today.

On we went up the hill. It was all paved, and a relatively short and easy climb but by the first 100 feet I was sweating buckets, and it only got worse. It took maybe 10 minutes to walk there but I think this afternoon was one of the most humid so far. either the road was very steep or the temple only appeared to be far off in the distance because we were there in no time at all. There was one of the few signs in English that we saw all week, it said: THIRTEEN STORIED/ SRI BHOOT NATH TEMPLE,

 and sure enough we climbed round and round, up and up, with each rotation of the staircase the view of Rishi down below got more and more amazing. Finally we finshed the  the very steeply inclined steps and we reached the 13th story where the temple priest was. He was a fairly frail looking old man, short and bald with white stubble. he welcomed us into the little shrine area tjat was devoted to Shiva and asked us if we could like a pooja and we said yes! He came and sat down next to us in front of the statue of Shiva and took out what Dr. Muthu said was probably siolidified ghee with a wick, and he lit it. he circled the saucer with the flaming ghee in front of Shiva then had us do it too. Then he lit some insense, cirlced it in front of Shiva and then gave the sticks to us so we culd do the same. After, he took some red paste stuff and put a dot of it on our foreheads. We made a donation and then he gave us mala beads (prayer beads) and put them over our heads. In my case, he felt so inclined  to actually tuck it in under my shirt collar. We shook his and and said Namaste and then goodbye. We stood outside  for a bit looking at the view from the tippy top and then he showed up again asking if we wanted a picture of the view. Mary all of a sudden seemed in a hurry and we said no thank you, and went on our way down about 3 stories to where there was a bigger terrace with lots more bells. After a few moments he appaeared again and told us to follow him. He unlocked this little white retractable gate thing from the buidling and told us to enter. At this point we're both like: uhhhhh...., but then we followed anyway. there was another shrine and this time, he told us,  it was devoted to his guru, who had apparently long since passed away. He said this place was off limits to everyone else. "Special for you." he said with a fairly toothless grin. the gesture was genuine enough and we felt very moved that he decided to show us this place that was so scred to him. It was again time to say goodbye and he stuck out his bony old hand to Mary, who took it,  and he pulled her in for a hug. THis hug seemed a little off to me but I couldn't quite place the reason why. He let her go and as she walked back through the gate he stuck out his hand for mine. Hesitantly, I obliged, and this old man has quite a firm grasp and clasped my had and began drawing me in. he hugged me and then - he....I don't know how else to explain it other than....he buried his face in that nook between my shoulder and neck and then...he smelled me. He released me barring his toothless smile. I jumped thought the gate to where Mary was, we waved and quickly walked down the rest of the steps. We were never afraid, nor did we ever feel threatened. we just decided that his was how he perceived Americans say goodbye. he knew that here was a handshake and he also knew that there was a hug. The problem was, especially with Mary's encounter a few days before, that he didn't know that some kinds of touch are not appropriate - especially on the first pooja.

7.6.11. 1:56PM. Day 5. Lord Hanuman and His Monkeys.

I woke up around 5AM to the soft pitter patter of rain. This was no monsoon but it was a fresh beginning to what looked to be a promising day. I felt tremendously better than the day before but I found that I had a huge headache, most likely from the lack of food for the majority of yesterday. But still, I had enough energy to go to yoga, and even though the ache got so intense I wanted to punch the instructor in the face for making me continue, i got through it and felt that I earned my breakfast. It's amazing how quickly word travels  here because no less than 6 people asked me how I was feeling today.

I stopped by the kitchen to make a special request for toast as a part of our breakfast. The way those ladies made toast is magical. I think that they take normal sliced white bread, spread ghee on it, and sprinkle on some salt and then grill it. Soooooooo good! The salt brings out all kinds of buttery good flavor from the ghee, and the salf itself tastes wonderful, and may even be quite benificial in this type of climate where so much of our salt content is lost through sweat.

After breakfast we came back to the room to just lounge and digest. But then a large troop of monkeys came walking by on the low wall right in front of our door and window. We took the opportunity for a few photos. I've got some cute ones of some mammas and their babies. These monkeys walked right by us, and at some points mo more than 2 feet away. But when they got that close we were sure to give them some space by closing the screen door in between us. Just in case.

 

Afterwards we went to see Dr. Muthu for our class. The topics today were mud and fasting therapies. There are three types of clay that he mentioned: white, black, and red. All of which are found in different locations. He told us what was good, how to harvest it, store it, and the different ways to use it. Also what diseases they are good for, and the ones that should not be mud therapied. Then he spoke on the various fasting therapies. I think he said there were around 5 or 6 types. Fasting is one of those things you  can do on your own and is best to do only if you are healthy. After the lecture, Mary and I went around some of the Ashrams and noticed that the particular one we were at seemed to be devoted mostly to Hanuman, the Monkey god, and when we decided to go back to sit on the steps by the Ganges, Mary pointed out a statue of Hanuman that I still can't believe I missed the first time. It was to the right of the steps and stood about 60 feet tall. He sits cross legged with his tail draped over his right arm, and his spreading open his chest with his hands.

 During the day the chest is closed, but it looks like it opens up and it probably does during the nightly ceremony. After taking a few pictures of that with some people close by for scale, we sat down on the steps. only one old man was there offering his bowl of flower petals, and when he left I was finally able to muster up the courage to touch the Ganges. It was awesome.

 The water is slightly milky-brown, full of rich sediment, it's cold but not freezing like the American River. It was very refreshing especially in humidity like this - I was told before I left home that if I got a chance to, I should bathe in the Ganges because it will wash away your sins. So a clean slate for me!

4:33PM

Mary went to have a massage done around 3Pm becuase Dr. Muthu asked us if we'd like one. I declined graciously, but Mary seized that opportunity by the horns. So when she went, I tagged along. Just like with the yoga, we had preconceptions about what a massage experience consisted of. And just like with the yoga we were off a little. The moment we walked  in there I immediately patted myself on the back for knowing myself. we walked into a little room about the size of a handicap stall in a public restroom. As soon as she latched the door the masseuse told Mary to strip down to only her underwear. There was no robe, or towel, or modesty. THis right here would have sent me packing. It ended up being a full body, head to foot, both sides massage*. Mary said it was the best she'd ever had, and she'd had a lot. She said that it was the best because of the lack of pomp and circumstance, there was no bravado or superficiality like you get in the states. The lady just rubbed her down. All business. She also pointed our that like the yoga part, it seems like in the US people, at least superficially, try to create an aura of sacredness or spirituality by using lofty breath or candles, music, incense, etc. Where as, here, the spirituality  is already in the air, so that all you need is a table and a woman with rediculously strong hands. But either way I'm not one much for massages - I get squirmy when people try to massage me, I'm sensitive so it tends to hurt, and I'm ticklish so...yeah. Massage - not my thing.
*It was a Swedish Massage

8:53PM

O.K. I can live here. Haha. It appears that the monsoon has started! Rain is thundering down from the heavens and thunder is racing after the lightning. Ah! I can just taste the electricity in the air. I hope it continues on until the morning because I would love to see it not just hear it.

Today was an all around more positive day than yesterday. Once I was fed and watered my headache went away. And I was even willing to go out on a walk. I was no overwhelmed this time and even got to enjoy it. I was still sweating out of every pore on my body but today nothing seemed to bother me.

I guess one thing does bother me. This food here is hard for me to eat (Mary loves it). There is something about it that just makes me not want it in my mouth. It might be the spices but Im not sure. I thought i'd had these spices before but the taste here is weird to me. The fresh papaya, which on the first day was so yummy, now even repulses me. It's sad. It seems like everything I ate the day I threw up is now off the menu for me. Now all I feel comfortable eating is chapatis and white rice - aweosme with continental sauce (which tastes an aweful lot like ketchup...), toast with ghee, and chai. It's bad, i know, all carbs, but at least Im getting a lot of exercise and i only have 2 more days before i go back to Aunty;s house, where her food is milder. I'd only been at her home for one night and already I'm homesick for it.

7.5.11. 8:35AM. Day 4. Ups and Downs.

Ugh. Very early this morning I got sick. I got what i prefer to call, "the ups and downs" than by what it is normally called. I guess I spent about 2 hours in the bathroom, and at one point stopped and noticed the sun rise through the window, noted it beauty, and then I continued with what I was doing. Eventually, i was able to go back to bed and after awhile felt comfortable laying down. I thought that I could at least sit or lie down at yoga but I didn't make it past putting on my clothes, so here I am, sitting on my bed facing the open bathroom door just in case I need to make a quick getaway...

 At some time close to 8AM I decided to to call my mom - she answered very enthusiastically and I responded in not quite the same manner, though I tried. I asked her, "why doesn't anybody call me?" and she replied with, "We weren't sure when a good time would be." I answered that with, "well, not today." Obviously. She called me back after a few minutes and told me that she told EEEEEEEEEVERYONE to call me. She also told them of my ups and downs situations...Agnes just called. It was good to hear her voice - and even better that I didn't have to make a getaway. I'm starting to get a headache, probably from the lack for hydration or perhaps the lack of food energy. But either way, I'm going to sip some more water and go lay down.

9:54 PM

I slept through most of the day. I think I set a record for the amount of naps taken before noon. I didn't eat for most of the day, though Mary tried to encourage me to do so. The ladies in the kitchen even made me some special "easy to eat" meals, but I barely touched the first one and forced myself to eat half of the second. Mary and I have come to the agreement that this is most likely the malaria medication that is the culprit. I've even begun taking it with food, which helps for awhile, but eventually the stomach pain comes back and seems to only be relieved when I lie down in a fetal position.

Mayank, the coordinator, at some point got wind of my not being well, so he called and let me know that day or night he would make the 1.5 hour journey from Dehra Dun to Rishikesh to come get me. I thought this a very sweet gesture, and if my fever and dizziness while standing don't go away by tomorrow, I might just take him up on that.

It seems the honeymoon period is over, at least for the moment. Though beautiful, India is humid, the power toes our every now and then, there are beggars overwhelming the streets, and most of all - which is not India's fault - I have to take Malaria pills that me it very hard to appreciate the awesomeness and magic of this place. Pain and discomfort have made me bitter. I hope the side effects will subside because I would like to take full advantage of being here and truly get to enjoy it because I know I still love it deep down inside, though I must endure pain in order to be safe. The things I do for those I love! We'll see how I feel tomorrow.

7.4.11. 9:16 A.M. Day 3. 8AM Yoga.

So I ended up waking up around 6am. I saw light coming from the bathroom so i got up and opened the door. The light was the rising sun shining through the open window. I looked out and the misty foothills were bathed in a hue of pink. There was a large building on the base of the hill that was surrounded by trees, contrasting the vivid green. I think today's morning topped yesterday's morning. Mary and I were up and ready for our first yoga experience at 8am. I don't know if there were class levels but it seemed like it was for beginners which was completely fine by me. The instructor said that we would start by warming up out joints, so for the whole hour we warmed up our joints - starting with our wrists, then our shoulders, leg,s back, and neck, and then we layed down and were instructed to relax, releasing any tension we had in our bodies. "Relaaaaaaaaaaaaax your boday, freeeeeeeeeeeeee your mind...." I almost fell asleep. This yoga felt like it was more about the experience versus the more commercialized version we are used to with specific styles of clothing, padded mats, etc. This was just a concrete room with a rug and a white sheet on the floor. Going back to the roots, keeping it simple. The instructor said we would be building up each day - but I was honestly fine with the amount of effort my pathetically out of shape body had to give.

2:10 PM. Ganges.

After yoga we went to breakfast...or rather the cooking ladies brought it upstairs to our room. After which I bathed and got ready for our first lecture on Naturopathic Medicine. It was very interesting. It consists of a balance between the five elements: earth, air, water, fire, and space. All of which are present and vital to the proper functioning of the body. I have notes on this, but I won't copy them here. I found that on the most fundamental level i agree with the philosophy of this type of medicine. For much of what our bodies go through, they can heal themselves, sometimes it just takes time but if we go for a quick fix it compromises our immune systems and our bodies' abilities to heal itself in the future. The body knows how to take care of itself.

We had lecture for about an hour and then we had some free time before lunch so we walked back through this beautiful place, which we still can't figure our if it's a hotel or a temple because there are so many gorgeously sculpted depictions of significant moments in the history of some of the gods, in the center of what appears to be apartment units or hotel rooms. We walked through, and right in front are beautiful marble steps that lead down to the Ganges river. We sat on these steps close to the water for almost an hour, just being in awe, and people watched to see what we could and could not do in such a sacred setting.

We went back for lunch and decided that this would be a great moment for a nap. So here we are.

PS - happy 4th of July!
PPS - I got lucky, I had absolutely no problems pertaining to jetlag.
PPPS - My initial preconceptions and curiousities about my fellow participants were answered soon after arrival. It was made clear by a few that they were globe treckers and took it upon themselves to unwarrentedly correct other people's "greenness." Most, on the other hand have done some international travelling, and a few were newbies like me. All in all, nobody had ever been to India, so were were all in the same boat. One of the globe treckers had already been here for 10 days and acted like she knew more because of it. But she didn't faze me because she, I later found out, had eaten the street food and had gotten "the sickness." I'm not going to lie, I smiled when I heard this.

4:53PM

We went our for a walk again, and the amount of beggars and deformities is starting to affect me. It's, so far, the one thing that is making me feel uncomfortable.

7.3.11. 11:28 P.M. Day 2. I Could Live Here.

I woke up probably around 7:30 to 8:00 in the morning. Aunty was already awake and asked me if I wanted tea. Yes. With ginger? Claro que si! When she brought it to me she first asked if I would like some biscuits to go along with the tea. And after she brought  me that she asked me if I would like to have then on the rooftop terrace. Of course i said yes. i walked up on to the roof and was greeted by view of the top of the city while it was just waking up. It was at this point, looking over the city, drinking my chai, while the sun came up that the thought popped into my head: I could live here. The morning cool and calm totally makes up for the midday head and hustle and bustle throughout the evening. I know it was only day 2 but this place never seemed foreign to me, it was never "over there," I've had such a strong feeling of longing, and  an almost tangible yearning for this land for so long that when I finally got here it was already nothing less than home.

My fellow student, Matt, and I at this homestay were picked up to be taken to the orientation. Our driver took us to the wealthy part of the city and we figured that when he pulled up to a house that this would be where the orientation would take place, but then he told us to stay in the car when he got out. Matt and I looked at each other in uncertainty of our current situation. Then a silver haired old woman came out of the gate, we were more confused. Her husband followed; slightly scared, our suspended curiousity was palpable and building. Then the two other female cohorts that rode with us  before popped out of the house and came merrily along. This...this mansion was their homestay! They got in the car and we were on our way. They told us all about it, and I almost got slightly jealous, but then I remembered Aunty and that was that.  My homestay mother made us her children the very first night, she made sure we  were comfortable an told us all kinds of personal histories and fed us! Apparently her English was way better than the other one. Matt said he had a hard time understanding her sometimes, but i guess I'm just used to it by now. Lots of practice. We arrived at a nearby complex, where we got out and walked into a living room already filled with the rest of the participants. We all sat in a circle and the orientation began. Soon after, we recieved our phones and once I was told how to dial out I texted my mom. The first sign of life for everyone at home. She called me a few minutes later and it was good to hear her voice. When she told me it was 3 AM other there, I felt bad - I did bad time zone math and thought it was 7AM. She said not to worry about it - I could call at anytime. I know that that statement was a simple one but it was enough. I got a little teary eyed for the first time, and only got teary eyed again right now as I write about it. It seems  that out of sight, out of mind really does work for me, because unless I am on the phone or writing about home - or maybe just my mom - I am perfectly fine  and happy. See Mom! Always making me cry! I'm sure it was a part of her scheme to make sure I come back from this trip. That maternal bond seems to be tightened, at least on my end, over distances, of any kind, of separation.

We were met by Dr. Sanjay Ghandi (no relation as far as i could tell) who is our Medical Director. He told us an overview of the healthcare system in India. Most of his jargon flew over my head, which was fine, I think i got the important parts down: India is as organized as chaos can be. there are so many people that need care and too little resources and time for all of them to be done justice. at the govn't hospitals care is free so thousands of people come daily. He told us that doctors see an average of 150-200 patients in three hours time. Multiple at once. He said that in order to see so many people that some things have to be compromised, like sanitation, and one on one time with a physician. He said that illnesses are noticably class divided. The poor often come down with what would be concidered easily managable diseases. HE mentioned such things as TB, anemia, hep a and b, pnemonia, gastro entiritus...where as the wealthier Indians tend to suffer from diabetes, heart disease, liver and kidey disease...they are also able to afford private healthcare which then gives them more one on one time.

He told us more but, the rest will have to come when i'm back at home in the US because it's hard to type up these long stories  with crappy keyboards in one hour or less...

After Dr. Ghandi left, we were told our schedules and apparently I, along with my future buddy, Mary, would be leaving for the city of Rishikesh that very night. It was both surprising and a little taxing. I really wanted to update the blog because as you can see, I had a lot to say. Now there will be at least a week's worth of writing to catch up on because as I understand it, Rishikesh has no internet. I was also kind of bummed to leave Aunty so soon, especially since her teaching me how to make chapatis would have to wait until I got back at the end of the week.


Our 1.5 hour journey to Rishikesh was quite exciting.Mary and I talked the whole way there and found that our personalities were most agreeable. About 15km away from Rishi, the scenery began to change, the relative flatness became hilly. We were  in the foothills of the Himilayas. And oh my, these foothills were mountains in and of themselves. If the Sierra Nevadas were covered in lush green jungle folliage and were lines with troops of little monkeys they would only slightly resemble these misty foothills of the tallest mountains of the world. After a turn, a view of the Ganges opened up before us, and lining it was the town of Rishikesh linked by the suspention foot bridge. We had to cross this bridge on foot with all of our luggage and walk far and deep into the city to reach our room at one of the many Ashrams. We ate, bathed, wrote in our journals and went to bed.

7.02.11. Late. Day 1. Lines Are Optional.

I'm in India! And I must say I love it here. :) It's interesting, so many people time and time again warned me about security and keeping my wits about me that they seemingly forgot to mention something fairly obvious... when the plane finally landed (the flight only took  7ish hrs, i don't know where i got 12 from) and I walked from inside the plane to the jetway - at that very moment I go smacked in the face. The humidity here is crazy. At the airport it said 71% humidity, and oh my, I was soaked in seconds.

It was interesting, I was warned that when leaving the airport I would be bombarded by people trying to grab my bags and lure me to their taxis or auto rickshaws. But they didn't. Mostly they just stared as i walked by, occasionally I would have to get close to one holding up a sign because my eyes were tired, and when I did that they would perk up a bit, but then as i would move on they would go back into waiting mode. Any way eventually I found my driver and he lead me to where another girl was already waiting. I stayed with her as our driver went to wait for another one.

Now this is the part where I experience the infamous Indian Driving. The lane-marking lines were either never noticed or were deemed as optional long ago. People, bicycles, auto rickshaws, motorbikes, cars, trucks, and buses weaved around and nearly through eachother, constantly honking to let the others know that they were coming full speed ahead. I even surprised myself at how calm i was through the whole process of getting to the train station. i guess I just figured that our driver was not new at the whole concept. this was his job after all.

The train station was fun. we were dropped off by our non-English speaking driver, but we managed to understand that we would be met by the Delhi coordinator shortly. So we waited by the gate. We saw a few monkeys sitting on a fence.  I really wanted to take a picture but was outvoted by the other girls who thought it was to risky to pull out the camera while we had all of our luggage to deal with. So no picture, sorry. I'm sure there will be more monkeys to take pictures of at a later time. After a few minutes our coordinator arrived, along with a few sprinkles of rain, to lead us and the other group to the right train. As we walked along the sprinkles turned into rain and rain turned into down pour and that turned into, what i'll dub, monsoon status. i think it maybe lasted for an hour but it was a very welcome relief, if only temporary, from the heat. When the train opened up people began to pack in, but there was this nice old man who said, "Ladies first," and let an old lady and myself  get on before he did. Our compartment held about 145 seats and as many people, if not more, packed into an air conditioningless, open windowed, multi-fanned, giant metal box. On the way on I got a quick view of the bathroom. it was everything I imagined. People had described it  very well, apparently, because it was a little (tiny) compartment with footing steps on either side of a hole in the ground from which I could see onto the tracks. I didn't go investigate further, but i would have to take a guess that the hole was about the size of a tea saucer. Any way, we made our way to our seats  (which of course were on the other side of the compartment) laden with  bulky, heavy bags which we threw onto the luggage racks  above our seats. Once the train picked up  and was full speed ahead, the heat wasn't too bad, but unfortunately it was not a straight shot train and we stopped at plenty of stations along the way on our 6 hour journey - ours was the last stop the train would make that night. We passed many villages and some cities, in varying condition and then it became mostly  countryside and small farm patches. It was one of those moments that will stay with me forever - sitting in a godforsaken oven of a train car, hanging out the window and watching different groups of boys of varying ages, from young boys to older men playing games of cricket on open patches of dirt in their fields, backlit by the waning sun.

Unfortunately, the sun did set while we were on the train. Luckily, most of the compartment emptied out by that point because that way i was saved from too many people seeing my less than composed or brave reaction to what followed. They turned on the lights. Remember, there are two key factors: it's pitch black outside and the windows were all open. Bugs of all shapes and sizes, flying, fluttering, and crawling made their way into the compartments. Of you are imagining chaos please keep that image because it would be hard for me to explain the full amount of squeemishness I had to quite visually overcome. The natives seemed unfazed, just brushing the insects aside if they landed on them,while is foreign folk were constantly popping up in a popcornesque fashion every  few seconds. It amuses me now, but for such small and, i guess, completely harmless creatures they sure du have the power to displace 7 American 20'somethings from their seats.

Long story short, I made it to Dehra Dun around 9:30PM, got driven to the homestay, met "Aunty" our homestay mother, who is the sweetest woman. She gave us yummy soup, I took a bucket bath, and wend to bed.

The beds are interesting, it seems the most common one is a king sized bed that is basically a raised sheet of wood covered by a fairly thin layer of padding. the bed has a slight bump in the middle to separate the two halves. It seems like i'll be sleeping on my back for a month...

7.1.11. 6:33 P.M. Almost Halfway There.

Okay, so you can probably tell that I had a moment of panic in SF. After a few minutes I managed to calm myself down and get a better attitude about the being solo thing. I am in London now, and my phone does NOT work. it in fact thinks it is January 1, 1:33 AM. and there is no service what so ever. I still don't know how to dial internationally, so I just sat and stared at the pay phone for a few minutes while a line built up behind me. I eventually kept walking with the hopes that the much needed epiphany would come...I'm still waiting.

 I've been here for going on 5.5 hours now, and we will be allowed to board in another 2 hours and then around 10:00 PM we should be taking off. 12 hours after that we will be landing in Delhi! yay. I did not end up venturing out into the city because after we flew over it on the way here i felt that the whole 3 hours I'd get to explore, get lost, cry until someone finally helped me, and got back to the airport....it wouldn't have done London justice. So I will reserve this experience for another trip.

The malaria pill didn't make me throw up today (yay) but I did spend a good hour hoovering around various bathrooms, probably looking very suspicious, fearing that I would not be able to conquere the feeling. Eventually, I was able to convince myself that perhaps a bit of soup would help settle my stomach. So far so good. I think that between the pills and the complete lack of sleep for I don't even know how long at this point, has made my brain sluggish and numb, and I have to work very hard to even stay awake. I catch myself dozing off and startle some of the people around me.

I've taken a few pictures already, mostly out of boredom, but his computer doesn't have an option for the memory card reader...and I actually didn't think about that part for the computers I would be counting on in India. Fingers crossed!

P.S. this and the last entry cost me £2.5! haha.

6.30.11. 5:07P.M. Day 0. Flight Day.

Holy Crap. I'm sorry, I tried to say it more eloquently but reality has finally smacked me in the face. I'm sitting here at the gate in SF and I am officially on my own for this one. This fledgling Anthropologist has jumped out of the tree and is testing her wings.

6.29.11. 2:07 P.M. One Day Out.

Uuuuuuuugh. So I just started my regiment of Malaria "preventing" pills. It seems that this is one of the few times that the side effects have actually affected me. And of course, it is when the side effects are the symptoms of the disease itself. So, basically, I had a crappy morning, full of stomach pain and all around discomfort until I gave in and finally threw up. After that one episode I have felt better and was able to eat a full lunch. I'm hoping that it will be this consistent every morning because then I can conform my schedule to throwing up within an hour of taking my pill, and then going about my merry way. As sucky as it is to face the idea of vomiting daily, it would be more sucky to have the real thing for the rest of my life. This temporary, and voluntary, bout of Malaria is, hands down, more appealing that the alternative. I did find it amusing, and I am also grateful for, the instructions that said to both take the pill on an empty stomach and to drink lots of water while doing so. This made the stomach acid dilute a bit and also made only clear, smooth water come out. This may be too much information for most people, but you know what - somebody has got to talk about those things that other people don't want to talk about. And I'm willing to put my pride and modesty aside and delve into those uncomfortable subjects and experiences. I will try to be as tasteful as I can.....Try.

But yes. The day before the day has come....the antiday...tomorrow I fly of and begin my journey. I am practically all set to go.

Mein India Ja Rahi Hu!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

P.S. If you notice at the bottom of this post there is a "Location" link, which right now is for California, USA, if you click on it, it'll be redirected to a new page, to google maps with the location listed. :) So you know where I am, will be, was, etc....

6.27.11. 9:32 P.M. Three Days Out.

I haven't written here in a while, a lot has happened. I moved into my new apartment, for one, and I began packing for the trip. Since the last post, I haven't really thought about what is going to happen too much. I'd decided to just let what ever happens happen and take it as it comes. I also felt that analyzing my preconceptions would only further solidify them as I would then be aware of them and therefore making an effort to act against them instead of acting as I naturally would...if that makes sense.

Anyway, I am almost all packed up, with only some minor, yet major, things left to do. Such as making multiple copies of my passport...hehe...

I've not had much anxiety during my waking hours, yet it is whilst I am defenseless in my dream state that fears are allowed to play out in Dreamland's warped interpretation of reality. In a dream two nights ago, I found myself in a supremely clean and orderly Indian city, near a beach. My oldest brother and his wife were with me, and we were standing by a car in a not-so-filled parking lot, and only a handful of people were on the streets walking. This is about as much as I can remember from the dream, and already I can tell that I want what I know I will most likely not get. I had another dream after that one, and a very similar one last night where my teeth fall out, one by one they either fall out or are easily pulled out. What this dream represents, I cannot yet quite figure out. Perhaps it is just a manifestation of the anxiety all together. But I don't know. I wouldn't have thought much of it if it didn't happen two nights in a row, or had happened before. I wonder what I'll dream about tonight.

I looked up things to do during my 9 hour layover in London the other day. I found some really neat double decker tour buses, but my flight comes in at an inconvenient time at 1:15 in the afternoon...so I'm not sure that I will be able to take one. I was thinking about just getting a travelcard for the underground and just popping up at random places around the city and seeing what I can do. My flight to India leaves at 10:00, so I'm not sure how many touristy things happen with in that time frame. If nothing else, especially if I'm not allowed to leave the airport, I hear Heathrow is huge so I would have plenty to see in there. But really, now. That would suck...having to stay in the airport for 9 hours. I saw The Terminal. I know how that goes.Tom Hanks makes it look easy. :P

P.S. I saw my first wild LIVING skunks tonight while walking on the levee. I was pretty excited. They were far enough away for none of us to be afraid of attack by the other. It was fun to not see one just as roadkill for once.

6.15.11. 1:26 AM. 15 Days Out.

It's after midnight, and it feels like it is at least 80 degrees in this room. I could convince myself that this could be seen as practice for the weather to come. I've heard a few things about the weather in the region I will be staying - my dad was the first one to point out to me that July is part of the monsoon season in India. I was also told that due to my being located in the foothills (of the Himalayas!) the heat will be milder than in the Plains regions below. The heat in Sacramento is dry. Some say that it is much worse than heat with  humidity. I, for one, have never experienced the wrath of a truly humid climate. And what wimpy humidity I have felt, I did not like. I am not one much for the whole sweaty, sticky feeling.

I've been enjoying one of my self-imposed adaptive-training routines: bucket bathing. I was told that showers would have to be three minutes max, and my hair, alone, can take five. So I felt that this option would be more practical. I don't know why, perhaps it is the novelty, but the ritual of bathing has become much more of a pleasant and calming experience for me than the regular tedious showers have been. I also feel less guilty about taking my time because I am not wasting nearly as much water as before. I am not quite sure, but i think the bucket holds between 1-2 gallons.
*Mental note: see average water consumption during shower*

I feel that this might become a new, permanent, thing for me.

6.14.11. 12:00 AM. 16 Days Out.

In response to my previously posted manifesto, I have decided to create a questionnaire that I will fill out before and during my trip. I will informally ask these same questions to my fellow participants, and perhaps then I will be able to roughly gauge whether my preconceptions were indeed misconceptions. I will post the questionnaire soon after I write it up.

6.13.11. 11:24 PM. 17 Days Out

It's been a few days since my last post. I had a few floating thoughts but nothing concrete. While speaking with my dentist today I questioned something about myself. Do I feel that I have an upper-hand in comparison to my fellow program participants when it comes to adapting to a foreign culture/environment? I mean, I know absolutely nothing about these people, other than they are all pre-med or med students. I don't know what they studied for their undergrads, or where they've traveled to before. I have never left the country, except for that one day in Mexico. And yet, I have this preconception that I would cope better with the culture shock than they would...I am a little bit startled from discovering this about myself. I have no foundation from which to base these pre-, and possibly mis-, conceptions about the other participants in comparison to myself. After all, what do I know about them? Nothing. And what do I know about myself? I tend to be shy in the beginning. I don't like being alone in unfamiliar places. I tend to get homesick after five days of being somewhere. I don't like situations I can't escape from. I don't sleep well in beds other than my own, or while traveling. I don't like sharing a room because I feel I need a place where I can retreat from people and just have me-time.

All of this has been true for me in the past and I have absolutely no doubt that I will encounter all of these while in India, and yet I am not afraid. My excitement and unease have only solidified my determination to take each of these situations and conquer them. I will face each one as it comes, every time it comes. I feel that if I were to accept my reality, instead of expecting things to be as they were (are) back home, I will have a smoother transition to the lifestyle I will be living during my stay. This idea of accepting my reality, being malleable to change, comforts me.

When in India, do as the Indians do.

I have also come to grips with the very real possibility that my mind will have to be that quiet place I can retreat to, if need be, and writing this journal/blog will be my me-time. And I'm okay with this.

6.10.11. 12:21 A.M. 20 Days Out

So on top of everything else, such as my self-observations, this pre-trip journal writing is a sort of exercise in the process of actually sitting still, collecting thoughts, and taking the time to write them down. I find that I am rather enjoying it so far, it forces me to focus and calm down. A good way to wind down from a tiring day.

I created this blog today - hope you like it -  and I found that I had the hardest time settling on a name for it. I had quite a few ideas, all of which sounded as corny as the one before it. I've decided that titles, in general, are corny and do not seem to fit when they are created before the actual content it is supposed to describe. However, the formatting stage of setting up the blog kept taunting me with an expecting "title" written where the title would go, seemingly innocent to the people to the people who didn't have to come up with a befitting title to sum up events that haven't happened yet. Evil. Anyway, I chose "A Taste of India," because, believe it or not, it was the least stupid of what I came up with.

P.S. The background picture is not one that I took.
P.P.S. Apparently, the repeated use of Windex (Professional) on a whiteboard...causes the death of said whiteboard, rendering it utterly useless except for the initial use after the windexing. After which - it is aaaall permanent. Oops.

6.9.11 Just After Midnight. 21 Days out.

My mind races with a million thoughts as my imagination gets the better of me and I begin to visualize endless distortions of a reality I have yet the pleasure of encountering. I have come to realize that as the days leading up to my departure creep ever closer, it is not the fact that I will be traveling half way around the world by myself, to a place I have never been too, where I know no one, and I barely know bits and pieces of the language; it is the anticipation of all of this that brings about both excitement and the much more prominent anxiety. These scenarios range from the worst case - I get lost, have no money or phone, and lose my passport - to the other extreme of having the time of my life, having had one of those life-changing experiences, and deciding that I might just not want to leave. I assume reality is somewhere in the middle.

I have wanted to go to India for so many years now, and though I had always promised myself that I would go one day, I never really believed in my own promise. But here I am, 21 days from fulfilling my promise to myself. I don't think that the reality...the magnitude of which....has hit me yet. It will be an interesting day when it does. I have many people to thank for this opportunity, my family and friends for their financial, mental, and emotional support, and for CFHI's (Child Family Health International) willingness to allow a fledgling anthropologist, with absolutely no medical background, into their program. I am forever indebted to all of you.

I was never good at keeping a journal. Attempting to put into words the jumbled mess of utter chaos that floats about untethered in my head has proven futile time and time again. And Although I find the idea of sharing my innermost thoughts with whomever wishes to read it slightly uncomfortable, I will do my best to be as completely honest and open to sharing my experiences as I possibly can...as regularly as I can. I feel that as a fledgling anthropologist, my experience is not just my own, but is meant to be shared and explored by everyone. It is my belief that experiences must be both had and shared in order for not only the tolerance, but eventual understanding and ultimately acceptance of other peoples, thoughts, and ideas to happen. In an ever increasingly open world, we need to (sorry for the cliche) learn how to get along, not just put up with each other.

...It is just after 1am, in a suburb of Sacramento, CA and through the open window I hear a pack of coyotes howling, calling to one another under the veil of darkness...I can't help but wonder what noises I will hear in the nights to come...